


Menagerie (5+1)

by Infinite_Monkeys



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1, And All the Sad Things, Borrows a Bit From the Comics, But a Few Were Very Confused, But light angst, Completely Ignores Infinity War, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, No animals were harmed in the making of this fic, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Thor (2011), Shapeshifting, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Villain Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 11:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinite_Monkeys/pseuds/Infinite_Monkeys
Summary: It's gotten to the point where Thor just assumes most animals are secretly his brother.He's very protective of his brother. He tends to act before he thinks. These don't always make for a great combination.Or: Five times Thor was mistaken in thinking a random animal is Loki, and one time he was right.





	Menagerie (5+1)

**Author's Note:**

> Just something fun I finally finished because my last fic was pretty intense and I needed something happy and fun. All disclaimers apply re: me not owning Marvel or any of the characters.

1\. Snake  
  
After the stabbing incident, Thor has learned to be more cautious. Where before he assumed that everything was as it appeared to be, now he knows even something as seemingly innocent as a little snake can secretly be his brother planning to sink another dagger into his thigh. That was not an experience he cares to repeat.  
  
So when he spots an absolutely lovely poison-green snake just beyond the courtyard, Thor knows what to expect. Loki will not catch him off-guard this time.  
  
He approaches the snake cautiously. At first it seems oblivious to his approach, only sitting on the marble step and basking in the warm rays of the early morning sun. When he steps too close, though, it reacts, and the wriggling green body flows like quicksilver over the smooth stone.  
  
Thor follows at a cautious distance behind, at least until a guard accidentally steps in the path of the little green blur. The snake rears back and strikes, sinking its fangs into the guard's ankle.  
  
The man yelps, and Thor dives forward just in time to prevent the guard's dagger from making him an only child.  
  
"No, don't," he gasps out as his fingers close around the smooth green coils. He pulls the little reptile to safety and is rewarded by a sharp pain in his hand. A rough shake dislodges the snake, then Thor scoops him up off the tiles.  
  
Loki _bit_ him. That ungrateful wretch had bitten his rescuer, and his brother besides.  
  
Thor taps him on the head angrily. "Have a care who you bite," he says, scowling. When the snake rears back, unrepentant, and tries to bite him again, he locks strong fingers around the base of its jaw and holds it fast while its body twists angrily below. It is a strain to hold tightly enough that it can't escape, but he had always been strong, and he puts all the pressure of his frustration into the grip.  
  
"Change back," he demands of the beast, giving it a shake for emphasis. It hisses at him and remains a snake.  
  
"Fine, then." He has half a mind to just toss him away and leave him to fend for himself, but in this mood his brother evidently does not have the presence of mind not to bite and antagonize and get himself and others hurt. The bites might not be lethal but the venom stings; already he can feel the throb in his swelling hand.  
  
He will have to put his brother somewhere safe, at least until he has sense enough to take on his own form.  
  
"I am taking you to your chambers unless you change back now, brother." The snake remains the same, writhing in his grip, and he shrugs. "Very well. You shall have to become something with hands, if you want to be able to work the doorknob."  
  
He walks quickly down the halls, ignoring the stares of the people he passes and cursing his brother internally for making this awkward trip necessary.  
  
When he reaches the doors to Loki's chambers he feels an overwhelming urge to knock, beaten into him by his brother through careful conditioning. Too often had he just barged in only to find himself a toad or a woman or himself with bright green hair, until finally 'you must knock on Loki's door' became just another of his instincts. It doesn't matter now, though, because Loki isn't in his room. He is in Thor's hand, being an idiot.  
  
He throws open the door and flings the snake with a bit more force than is probably necessary.  
  
Right into the face of his brother.  
  
Loki stares at him in utter shock as the snake bounces off his face and falls to the floor, where it slithers under the bed. His jaw works but no sound comes out. This is the first time Thor remembers ever seeing his brother utterly speechless.  
  
Thor, for his part, just stares back at him, equally unable to speak.  
  
Loki, ever the swifter, is first to regain his tongue. "Wha--why?" he sputters, his usual elegance with words lost in red-faced confusion and anger.  
  
He takes a breath, calms himself, then speaks again, much more collected.  
  
"Thor, why did you march into my room and throw a snake at me?"  
  
"I--I" Thor tries, looking between his brother and the edge of the bed where the snake had disappeared.  
  
"You're going to catch it," he says when it becomes clear Thor is incapable of answering, "and get it _out_."  
  
Thor nods mutely.  
  
Ultimately, it takes the both of them the better part of an hour to trap the thing. Thor gets bit three more times and Loki twice for the trouble.  
  
Two days later, Thor returns from their lessons to find his bedchambers filled with frogs.  
  
  
  
2\. Mouse  
  
Thor is sitting at the edge of the training yard and polishing scratches out of his helmet when he sees the mouse.  
  
It is a little brown field mouse, unremarkable except for the uncharacteristic boldness of its approach. Rather than bolting at the sight of him it creeps slowly closer, whiskers twitching as it scents out ahead. It crawls within a couple feet of him and stops, eyeing him warily.  
  
When he continues with his task and ignores the overly curious rodent it only edges a little closer, still staring at him intently.  
  
A suspicion makes him pause and look at the mouse more closely. It doesn't really look like... "Loki?" he asks.  
  
The mouse twitches an ear in what seems to Thor to be an affirmative.  
  
"What are you doing, brother? Why are you a mouse? Are you hiding from someone? Another bet gone wrong, I assume." He chuckles, because really, Loki needs to learn to stop with the outrageous gambling, even if he wins more often than not. One of these days it will most likely get out of hand and he'll be in serious trouble.  
  
The mouse draws back, offended, and Thor takes a breath to apologize for laughing when a flash of motion at the corner of his eye distracts him.  
  
One of the magnificent orange-and-gold cats tasked with hunting the vermin around the palace darts in, moving with the swiftness and agility it had been bred for.  It has the little mouse in its teeth before Thor can react.  
  
He shouts, a blind panic racing through his veins, and lunges forward in enough time to snatch the cat and force its jaws open. It howls indignantly and twists out of his grasp, tearing long scratches into the skin of his hands and forearms. It doesn't matter—he lets it go—because all that does matter is the tiny brown body that falls to the dust, heaving with breaths too large for its small frame.  
  
"Brother?" He hovers uselessly, just out of range in case his brother begins a reverse transformation. Nothing of the sort happens, though, and the too-large breaths continue until he flops over onto his side, twitching in an unnatural and rhythmic way that Thor knows too well from hunts. It is the behavior of an animal badly injured, too much so, perhaps, to attempt a shape-change spell. It is the motion of an animal already dying.  
  
The worsening signs spur Thor to action. He scoops up his brother's tiny body in two cupped hands, feeling the breaths rise and fall against his fingers, and takes off running for the healing room.  
  
An eternity later he bursts through the doors and is greeted by a number of very concerned-looking healers. "Hurry," he shouts, "my brother is injured."  
  
He deposits the mouse on the nearest healing table, and half the healers blink at the small animal in confusion. The other half move to the corridor behind him, searching for an injured prince.  
  
"Your highness," Eir, the head healer, says after a moment, "where is Prince Loki?"  
  
He gestures to the prone bundle of fur on the table, reigning in the impulse to scream. "He has shifted his shape and is stuck in the form of a mouse," he said, and she starts moving then, thank the Norns. "He seems gravely wounded," he adds, all but choking on the words. "Will he..."  
  
"We shall do all we can," Eir says as she starts weaving spells into the air and frowning down at her tiny patient. "Are you entirely certain this is Prince Loki? I see nothing to say it is not an ordinary field mouse."  
  
"My brother's magic is impressive, and his transformations complete. You," he says to one of the apprentice girls hovering in the doorway, "send word to the queen that my brother is injured, and you," he turns to another, "tell the Allfather. They ought to know."  
  
After a moment's observation Thor moves himself to a chair at the edge of the room. As much as he wants to stay close to his brother, he is unwilling to risk getting in the way of the healer's delicate work, especially with the patient so much smaller than they are accustomed to.  
  
He can't see much, but every so often he catches a glimpse of brown fur rising with an overlarge breath, and the sight makes his heart twist.  
  
The messenger he had sent to his mother returns a few moments later, but it isn't his mother who strides confidently in the room behind her. No, not his mother, but the dark hair and green eyes send his heart into his throat.  
  
"I just came from a visit with mother," Loki says drily. "Imagine my surprise when I hear that I am lying desperately injured in the healing wing. I had to investigate and see how I'd managed to hurt myself so badly without even being here."  
  
Thor lunges out of the chair with a wordless cry and wraps his brother in a deep embrace, nearly sobbing in relief. Loki freezes, goes completely rigid, and after a moment he brings his hands to Thor's shoulders and pushes him back. "What is wrong with you now?"  
  
Thor explains to him about the training yard, and the cat, and his insistence that the healers treat a dying mouse, and Loki gets visibly worse at holding back laughter with each new part of the story.  
  
By the time Odin steps into the room, followed a step behind by the healer Thor had sent to fetch him, Loki is on the floor, doubled over and convulsing with waves of laughter, and Thor's face is flushed a deep, embarrassed red.  
  
"I received word that my son was grievously injured, he says, eyeing Loki in the floor with some concern.  
  
"Not your son," Loki put in though the giggles. "Not by blood at least, not even Aesir." Odin's face inexplicably goes a shade paler at that, but Loki doesn't seem to notice through the tears of laughter clouding his eyes, and he continues on. "No, Father, it is the mouse you adopted into your home. I did not know of it, but Thor assures us all it is his brother, so it must be so."  
  
Thor scowls. "I thought it was you, and you know I did. Maybe if you weren't always messing around as some animal or other I wouldn't have to assume such things."  
  
"And where would be the fun in that? Loki asks, and finally climbs back to his feet, still wiping the tears of mirth from his cheeks.  
  
Their father looks between the two of them and sighs deeply before leaving, looking as tired as ever he had.  
  
The brothers stand there for a moment longer, Loki still wiping tears from his eyes and chuckling softly.  
  
"The mouse will live," Eir says after a moment, "if anyone yet cares."  
  
Thor takes it from her, stroking its head gently with one thumb as he holds it, and decides to keep it as a pet.  
  
  
3\. Magpie  
  
Loki's trip to Alfheim should have been over weeks ago.  
  
True, his brother often gets caught up in his magical studies, and true, it isn't exactly unusual for his trips to run long, and a few weeks is hardly any time at all for one who measures their lifespan in millennia. Still, it makes Thor nervous, and he'd feel much better about the whole thing if Loki wouldn't obsessively shield himself from Heimdall's gaze.  
  
His mother brushes off his worries, reminding him, as she always does, that even were he not spending his time safely tucked away in a library, his brother is perfectly capable of looking after himself.  
  
Still, he looks forward to the upcoming visit from Alfheim's ambassador, even though he hates the man personally, so he can ask for news.  
  
The ambassador is every bit as unsavory as Thor remembers. He doesn't get on well with most of the elves, as their tendencies towards magic and subterfuge go against everything he has been taught, and he generally only tolerates such things if the person doing them has the redeeming quality of being his brother. This particular elf always smiles at him like Thor is the punchline of a secret joke, and Thor very badly wants to punch that smile off of his face.  
  
The smile seems wider and more malicious than usual this visit.  
  
Nonetheless, after the standard greetings and pleasantries have been exchanged, Thor volunteers to help the ambassador back to his appointed chambers himself, the better to get him alone and ask some questions about Loki's activities and well-being.  
  
He even helps the man carry his luggage, which consists of two unrealistically heavy traveling bags and a magpie in a gilded cage.    
  
The magpie peers at Thor with surprisingly (uncomfortably) intelligent eyes. It makes him miss Loki; magpies are his favorite birds, and he had a tendency when he was little to turn into one whenever he got too restless. This one is stunning—slightly larger than normal, with a belly white as new-fallen snow and wings so dark they call to mind spilled ink.  
  
"A beautiful creature," the ambassador says when he catches Thor staring. "His name is Ikol. I caught the little fellow sneaking around and stealing from my rooms, and I just had to keep him. He's quite the treasure. Isn't he lovely?"  
  
His smile makes Thor uneasy, and he nods quickly. The heavy bags in his arms start to slip and he shuffles them in his arms, earning a trilling squawk from the bird in question.  
  
"How fares your realm?" Thor asks, changing the subject and trying to steer the conversation naturally toward the questions he wants to ask.  
  
"Alfheim is well, and thanks you for your concern," he replies. "Perhaps soon the Crown Prince of Asgard will honor us with a visit?"  
  
"I should like to," Thor says politely. "My brother visits even now. Have you perhaps seen him recently?"  
  
The elf nods, pausing to unlock the door to his chambers. "There, on the bedside table is fine," he directs, and Thor rids himself of bag and cage with no small measure of relief. "Yes, I have seen Prince Loki _very_ recently. His talent with Seidr is most remarkable. I am especially impressed by his talent with shape-shifting."  
  
He fixes Thor with that subtly mocking grin, and he can't help but feel like he's missing out on a joke, most likely at his expense.  
  
"I do imagine, though," he says, intentionally slowly, "that there is a great deal of trouble one can get into with that particular ability. Especially for one so well-known for his mischief."  
  
The bird on the far table makes a sound then, a hooting trill that reminds Thor of laughter, or maybe choking. His eyes slide over to the bird, and something uncomfortable clicks into place in his mind.  
  
He dismisses it, though, as ridiculous. His mother is right—Loki can handle himself.  
  
"Your words are not meant to insult my brother, I hope." He lets his voice rumble with the words, just a faint hint of warning.  
  
"Of course not," the elf says quickly. "My people are quite fond of Prince Loki, with his inquisitive mind and talent for magic. He's quite the treasure."  
  
The phrase makes Thor's gaze slide over to the bird once more, and for the first time he notices a faint glint of gold around the magpie's foot.  
  
He takes a few steps closer, pretending nonchalance, and inspects the bird more closely. A tiny circlet of gold encircles its foot.  
  
Thor doesn't know enough to translate the runes, but he knows they are magical and powerful, and at least one looks familiar. He thinks he remembers it functioning as a seal, a part of a spell for keeping something trapped and powerless.  
  
The magpie meets Thor's eyes and warbles once more.  
  
Suddenly, like a blow to the gut, the pieces fall into place. He doesn't know the details, the how or the why, but he is absolutely certain this bird is his brother.  
  
He knows, just as suddenly, what he has to do.  
  
"I enjoyed our conversation," he hears his voice say as though from a great distance, "but I'm afraid I must excuse myself. I have several things I must attend to."  
  
"Of course," the ambassador says. "I thank you for your hospitality and your assistance. I know we," he gestures vaguely to the bird, "will enjoy our visit."  
  
He leaves, and closes the door behind him.  
  
Thor's head is in a fog as he wanders back to his room. His first instinct is to march into that cursed elf's rooms, smite him with the full might of Mjolnir, and free his brother. It would be satisfying to finally have a reason to wipe that condescending smile from the elf's face, and it is the quickest route to Loki's freedom.  
  
A small voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Loki, though, points out the flaws in that approach. It would very much cause a diplomatic incident, and for all that Loki always accused him of not paying attention to the details of the kingship he would one day claim, he understands well enough why that isn't acceptable. Even if it would surely be cleared up once he is proven guilty of kidnapping a prince, straining relations with an ally in the meantime is hardly wise.  
  
He knows, too, that barging in would give the ambassador time to defend, and while Thor does not worry for himself, his brother is startlingly fragile when he is a bird.  
  
No, he thinks. He'll have to think like his brother, and that means stealth.  
  
The plan takes him nearly an hour to decide upon, and longer to talk himself into, but at the end of the day, there's little he wouldn't do for his brother.  
  
When a servant comes to fetch him for dinner, he is curled up on his bed, feigning illness. No doubt his mother will come later to check on him, but sickness is one of the few things that would excuse him from an official state dinner.  
  
He waits another twenty minutes after the servant has left, to be sure the ambassador is in the dining hall and not in his rooms.  
  
The quarters beside the elf's in the guest wing of the palace are empty, awaiting another set of foreign dignitaries. It is simple enough to avoid everyone in the halls and slip unseen into the empty rooms.  
  
Once there, he climbs out on the balcony and surveys the ornamental carvings on the building's edge. They're shallow but his grip is strong, and he thinks he can make it across the narrow gap.  
  
He thinks of his brother as that dreadful elf's pet, and he's sure he can do it.  
  
There's a moment where the vertigo pierces him, tugging at the pit of his stomach and pressing upon him with the full weight of the drop beneath him.  
  
But the moment passes, and he makes his way across without incident. The latch on the window breaks easily, and he doesn't feel any security spells beyond those typical of the palace, which pay him, the prince, no notice.  
  
The golden cage is on a stand in the corner of the room, and the magpie within has his head tucked under one wing. He pulls it out as Thor approaches and makes the strange chortling noise from before.  
  
"Shh." Thor puts a finger to his lips. "Quiet, brother. I'm going to get you out of here."  
  
He picks up the bird and returns to the balcony, then realizes he hasn't accounted for the bulkiness of the cage. There's no way he can climb across while holding it, and absolutely no way he's going to leave it behind.  
  
He searches the room, eventually settling upon the ties pulling back the drapes. One he uses to make a handle for the cage that he can sling over his shoulder like the strap of a knapsack, and the other secures it to his belt to keep it from bouncing around or slipping while he climbs.  
  
It's awkward, and the climb back is slow and cautious, but his feet finally touch the floor in the empty room and he breathes an enormous sigh of relief. It's short-lived, though, because now he has to get back to his rooms and find a way to free his brother.  
  
The way back is a mad dash of adrenaline, hiding behind statues and ducking into unused hallways to avoid curious maids, but in the end he closes the door of his own chambers and hauls his brother onto his bed.  
  
The golden cage he rips apart with his bare hands, and the catharsis calms some of the anger and anxiety bubbling in his veins.  
  
The spelled circlet poses more of a problem. It's tight around Loki's leg, and the first time Thor tries to snap it his brother squawks in pain and takes to the air, flapping in frantic circles around the room.  
  
Thor lunges and catches hold of him, only to let go again when sharp talons score long red scratches over his hands and forearms.  
  
He nearly screams in frustration, but he can't afford to attract attention before his brother takes on his own form again. Loki, for his part, stays near the ceiling, and despite his height Thor can never quite reach him.  
  
After a significant amount of wrangling, Thor manages to throw a blanket from the bed over his brother's wings, sending him sprawling awkwardly to the floor. He pounces and scoops up the angry tornado of feathers and claws, using the blanket to muffle the struggles until he can get hold of the offending gold charm on the bird's leg.  
  
He gets his fingers firmly around it, and with a mighty effort he manages to pull it apart. It snaps with a shock like electricity and a shower of sparks.  
  
Loki _screeches_ and takes to the air once more, flying straight into the window and flapping and fluttering against the glass. He abandons it as Thor reaches him, flying in dizzying circles around the ceiling while Thor gives chase.  
  
"Brother," he shouts. "Come down! I've broken the spell, you should be able to change back now!"  
  
He doesn't, though. Thor chases him, a dark knot of worry growing deep in his stomach. He had been so sure that his brother would change back as soon as the gold band was removed, but what if there is more to the spell? He doesn't know enough about magic to attempt to remove an enchantment, or even to test for one. Perhaps their mother can help, if he explains the entire situation to her...  
  
His door starts to open, and the magpie flies straight toward the opening and freedom. Thor swears and launches into a sprint, and nearly collides with Loki as he steps into the room.  
  
His first thought is of relief, that his brother finally changed back, but with a flutter of wings the magpie he had been chasing lands and settles on Loki's shoulder, pecking irritably at his ear.  
  
"I heard yelling—Ikol?" Loki asks, stroking the black feathers along his back. "What are you doing here?" He looks to Thor, raising his eyebrows in question.  
  
Thor stares back, suddenly feeling extremely foolish.  
  
Loki's eyes drift to the ruined cage, its pieces scattered across the thoroughly overturned room, then back to the bird. "Thor," he prompts, "why is Ambassador Orvar's pet here in your room?"  
  
Thor mumbles.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"I said I thought he was you," Thor admits, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.  
  
Loki gives him a strange look, like Thor is an interesting but unintelligent new creature that he is attempting to categorize. "And why would you think this?"  
  
"It all made sense!" Thor protests, throwing up his arms. "You're always a magpie, I swear I knew that form better than your own when we were small, and the ambassador was being so blasted smug I was sure he was up to something! He mentioned your skill in shapeshifting then introduced a bird he caught sneaking in his rooms whose name is yours spelled backwards. What was I supposed to think?"  
  
Loki raises one eyebrow. "I don't much care what you think, so long as you do. Did it not occur to you to check if I was actually missing before setting off on your ill-advised rescue mission?"  
  
"You always hide from Heimdall," Thor grumbles.  
  
"Well, it's not like there are no other ways of contacting me. And if you had done even the slightest bit of research, you'd have realized that Orvar has had Ikol for years, far too long for him to be me. He's ridiculously attached to this bird, and everyone knows it."  
  
Thor groans. "I've gone and caused a diplomatic incident, haven't I?"  
  
To his surprise, Loki waves him off. "Don't worry about it. I'll return the bird and explain. I'm certain he'll understand."  
  
Thor isn't so certain. "How can you know that?"  
  
Loki grins and lifts one arm, coaxing Ikol to step down off his shoulder and perch on the edge of his hand. "Orvar and I are good friends. In fact, not two days ago I was regaling him with stories of how I've fooled you into thinking I was various animals and vice versa. He found them quite amusing. No harm was done, so I've no doubt this will become simply another humorous tale."  
  
Thor gapes. "You told him— _that's_ why he said—?"  
  
"Yes, I think this will make a fine tale. 'Come, and hear the remarkable comedy of the mighty Thor and his adventures in petty bird theft.' I think I shall compose a poem for the bards."  
  
Loki leaves, humming softly to himself, with Ikol perched comfortably on his forearm.  
  
Thor changes his mind. His brother can stay in Alfheim for as long as he likes. Forever, perhaps.  
  
  
4\. Cat  
  
No one is terribly surprised when Clint brings home an Avengers pet. They are a little surprised that it is a cat and not a dog or weasel or teacup pig, but that is a minor sort of surprise.  
  
"He was following me," Clint offers, cradling the cat in one arm and stroking behind its ears with the other. "Took me a while to notice, too. He's a sneaky little guy."  
  
The cat is midnight black with bright green eyes, and he makes eye contact with Thor the second he walks in the room. The slitted eyes blink lazily and the smug look on that feline face is very familiar.  
  
"I named him Shadow," Clint announces, and Tony groans because it is official now, the Avengers have a cat.  
  
Shadow is not a low-maintenance pet.  
  
Thor starts to suspect something is off when Shadow proves a habit of not only destroying things, but doing so at the worst possible time. Glasses of water are knocked over onto the floor just as people take a step, and more than one Avenger takes a nosedive as a result. Pepper's most expensive rugs are torn to bits and left scattered on the hardwood. Rolls of toilet paper are shredded in otherwise functional bathrooms with predictable results.  
  
What is more, Shadow seems to intentionally avoid Thor, even going so far as hiding under the couch when he walks in the room. He seems unwilling to let Thor touch him, despite the fact that he's never done anything to antagonize the animal.  
  
It's been a while, too, since he or the other Avengers have had to fight his brother. The last time was just before they brought Shadow home.  
  
Thor intends to say something, he does. But something stops him. After all, shredding the rugs is far less destruction than Loki usually causes. Besides, something in him yearns for the idea of having his brother close, even if it is as a sullen cat who doesn't particularly like him.  
  
And every so often something will happen that gives him hope. Shadow will brush up against his leg and not immediately try to scratch him after, or sit sprawled across from him on the couch on Avengers movie night, hogging Clint's usual seat, or accept a treat that Thor sneaks him under the table, and it feels like bridges being rebuilt. Perhaps he is being given a chance, an opportunity to make up with his brother without the painful shouting their conversations always devolve into.  
  
One night, when Thor is staying up late and sitting on the couch, too keyed up after a battle with Dr. Doom to go to bed just yet, Shadow slinks out of the corner and slowly, cautiously crawls into Thor's lap. Thor doesn't breath as he tentatively creeps forward, one paw at a time, and waits until he starts purring softly to stroke the fur behind his ears. Tears come to his eyes as the cat settles down and tucks its nose under its tail, and when he falls asleep Thor doesn't move until morning.    
  
The other Avengers find out about his suspicions by accident.  
  
He is walking across the room with a bowl of cereal in each hand, one for him and one for Clint, when he accidentally steps right on Shadow's tail. The cat lets out an angry shriek and disappears under the nearest couch.  
  
Thor hurriedly deposits the cereal bowls on the coffee table and goes after him. "I'm sorry," he shouts, "I didn't mean to step on your tail. I didn't see you." When no answer is forthcoming, he drops on his hands and knees and peers under the furniture. "I am truly sorry, brother, please forgive me and come out."  
  
Shadow doesn't move, so he sighs and pushes himself back up, only to notice that his friends have gone rigid around him.  
  
"Brother?" Tony finally squeaks, and Clint has turned an unhealthy shade of pale.  
  
"Are you telling me our cat is secretly Loki, and you haven't thought to mention this?" Steve says incredulously. "Thor, how long have you known?"  
  
"I do not know," Thor says defensively, his mind racing. He doesn't want to give this up, not when he and his brother have actually been making progress. "I only suspect. Does he not seem an especially mischievous cat?"  
  
"He could do that?" Clint asks. "Loki, I mean. He could actually spend weeks pretending to be our cat and fool us the entire time?"  
  
"I believe so," Thor says, and Clint swears.  
  
"Let's be reasonable here," Steve says. "Has anyone else seen anything that would suggest our cat is secretly a supervillain in disguise?"  
  
Everyone shifts uneasily, but no one says anything.  
  
"Okay then." He turns. "I'm sorry Thor, but you're probably imagining it. You said you weren't sure?"  
  
Thor shakes his head.  
  
"He hasn't tried to throw me out of any windows," Tony says, "but shouldn't we be absolutely sure? I mean, if Loki is living in our tower that's a pretty serious thing."  
  
"If he is Loki we can't just let him go," Natasha adds. "We would need to contain him and call SHIELD. We'd have to know for sure."  
  
"Any suggestions on how we could do that?" Steve asks.  
  
"There's always Strange," Bruce says from the far end of the couch.    
  
"Nuh-uh. No way. I'm not having that crazy charlatan in my tower," Tony says.  
  
"He's not that crazy," Clint says. "And he'd probably be able to tell."  
  
"I don't like him," Tony insists, "and I don't want to ask that man if my cat is a supervillain with no evidence other than 'he sometimes chews the furniture'."  
  
"I am probably mistaken," Thor puts in when the silence becomes awkward. "I too have no true reason beyond hope to think that this is my brother, and I have been wrong about such things many times before."  
  
"So it's settled." Tony claps his hands together. "The cat's probably not Loki. We keep a close eye on him but there's no need to call in Strange just yet.  
  
The grumbled agreement is agreement nonetheless.  
  
The problem is, after this Shadow starts to get _worse_.  
  
The cat walks across the keyboard of Natasha's laptop, somehow erasing an entire mission log.  
  
He runs between people's legs as they walk and gives Clint a sprained ankle that keeps him out of a mission. A Hydra foot-soldier sneaks off with some very sketchy research while the Avengers are busy fighting his teammates, and while there's no guarantee Clint would have spotted him, they don't call him Hawkeye for nothing.  
  
He somehow catches a mouse (and how did he do that, they haven't even let him outside) and sets it free at the foot of Pepper's desk during a very important phone call.  
  
But the crowning moment is when the team comes back from a mission to find an improbably awful mess. Shadow has somehow not only turned on and overflowed a bathtub, but knocked over several potted plants into the water and then pulled the curtains down into the resultant mud. The carpet in every single room is covered in trails of mud.  
  
In the middle of the room, though, is a pile of very secret SHIELD files that were supposed to be locked away where neither cats nor supervillains were supposed to be able to reach them.  
  
Most of them are shredded, but one perfect page sits in the middle of the pile, a muddy paw print stamped into it like a signature.  
  
"Fine," Tony says, surveying the wreckage. "Fine. We talk to Strange. I'll call him."  
  
Dr. Strange doesn't want to meet the Avengers' cat. At least, that is what Thor gathers from the several shouted phone conversations between him and Tony Stark, which usually end with Tony pacing enough to leave a permanent dent in the carpet and then retreating to his workshop to furiously build something.  
  
Strange must agree eventually, though, because a man in brightly colored robes and a cape that fairly crackles with seidr quite literally floats through one of the upstairs windows. Clint swears loudly and nearly falls over, Tony looks like he might want to strangle their guest, and Captain Rogers just frowns disapprovingly.  
  
Thor steps forward and takes it upon himself to greet their guest, extending a hand in the Midgardian greeting he has mastered in his time here with the Avengers. Strange takes it in a grasp that isn't quite steady enough for a warrior, but he squeezes back nonetheless. "Thank you for coming," Thor says, drawing on the manners his mother had drilled into him at a young age.  
  
"Where is the cat?" Strange says, and Thor points to the makeshift Loki-cat-cage Stark had designed.  
  
Strange approaches and looks at the energy field with disdain for a second before nodding to Tony to turn it off. Tony does, reluctantly, and Dr. Strange reaches inside and pulls out a very indignant Shadow.  
  
Holding him to his chest with one arm, Strange waves his free hands and mutters a bit before sighing and looking at Tony. "This is a perfectly ordinary cat," he says, and puts Shadow down on the couch.  
  
"Are you certain?" Thor asks. "My brother is a talented shapeshifter. Is it possible that his imitation is simply too well done for you to detect?"  
  
Strange sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "All magic, however powerful, leaves behind a signature. So yes, I'm entirely sure that this cat isn't your brother. Do you need anything else? Don't answer that," he says. With a turn of his wrist a portal stands between them, throwing off orange-gold sparks. "I'm actually very busy. Perhaps next time you'll respect that."  
  
With a step and a swoosh of red fabric, he is gone.  
  
Shadow hops up onto the table, where he knows perfectly well he is not allowed, and fixes them all with a disdainful glare as he daintily cleans one front paw.  
  
They spend the next week making it up to him with treats and toys before they are forgiven.  
  
  
  
5\. Pigeon  
  
  
"He's getting away!" the Captain of America shouts.  
  
Thor looks up. Loki has, indeed, used their moment of distraction to make a run for it.  
  
Thor takes off in pursuit, but his brother dives around a corner, and when he slides around the bend the road is empty save a single pigeon, which startles and flies off.  
  
Thor stares dumbly for a second before the dots abruptly connect. "There," he shouts, lifting a hand skyward to indicate the pigeon while his other starts twirling Mjolnir. The ungainly bird flaps off, increasing the distance by the second.  
  
"JARVIS," he hears the Man of Iron fly in behind him, "I want every traffic and security camera in the area tracking that bird."  
  
They fly off together, and the others finish defeating the bilgesnipe herd Loki had summoned and start following Tony's garbled directions on foot. Loki seems to be flying an evasive pattern to avoid them, ducking between buildings and out of their direct line of sight, but it is in these places that the cameras Tony is using to track him are most abundant.  
  
They catch up to him in an alleyway when he finally stops to rest, all but panting in exhaustion.  
  
Thor is debating with himself about what to do next (attacking with Mjolnir or lightning would most likely kill his brother in this form, and that isn't something he'd like to live with) when the Man of Iron darts in and tosses a few small metallic objects around the pigeon as he flies.  
  
They connect to one another and close into a box with clear sides, assembling around Loki and trapping him inside.  
  
Thor grins and strides forward to collect the box, while Loki flaps and flutters and uselessly struggles within. He holds it up to face level and taps on the glass.  
  
"Clever, he says, then frowns. "Are there any holes?"  
  
"No, of course not." Tony lowers his faceplate, and his unfiltered voice sounds offended. "That thing's solid. No way he's escaping from there. We got 'im this time."  
  
Thor's frown deepens. "But if there are no holes, how will he be able to breath?"  
  
Tony looks honestly surprised by the question. "Does he have to? I mean, you guys have all this super advanced physiology and I thought—"  
  
"We still must breathe," Thor says, "even if we may survive longer without. It does not matter, though, for right now he is a bird, and a bird that needs air like any other."  
  
"Well, crap," Tony says. "I didn't actually make this thing as a villain-bird trap, so no, it hasn't got any air holes."  
  
"I will not have my brother suffocate." Thor hefts the box. "Either find a way for him to breathe or I am releasing him."  
  
"Whoa there." Tony lifts his arms. "Give me a second to think. That isn't glass there, and it's strong enough a regular drill bit won't do much. I'm not sure how we could puncture it, to be honest."  
  
"Think of something," Thor says, giving the box a gentle shake.  
  
"Well, maybe with a repulsor blast I could—"  
  
"That would destroy him," Thor cut in. "I won't allow—"  
  
Tony goes still, and cuts Thor off with an oath. "Doesn't matter, because that isn't Loki. Cameras just picked him up on the other side of town." He swore again. "We gotta get down there."  
  
Thor nods, then the Man of Iron takes to the sky.  
  
He pauses before following to smash the box and release the pigeon.  
  
  
+1. Dog  
  
When they arrive Loki is standing on a rooftop, hands wreathed in flame and laughing maniacally.  
  
"Brother," Thor says, "it's not too late to stop this."  
  
Loki laughs again, the sound dark and malicious (and no matter how often it happens, that cuts his heart every time) and tosses a handful of flame at the center of his chest.  
  
Thor steps out of the way and instantly wishes he hadn't. His armor would have protected him, but now the ball of fire sails by to hit Norns only know what.  
  
It turns out to be a small wooden building on the corner. The building catches fire and Tony swears as it catches, and before long people and smoke start to pour out the open doors.  
  
The eyes in the Iron Man faceplate flash and Tony dives in, emerging about twenty seconds later with a  coughing woman in his arms.  
  
Thor would join him, but he knows from experience he can't see well in the smoke-filled darkness, and without directions he'd be just as likely to bring the building down as to save anyone inside.  
  
The woman in Tony's arms gasps, and at first he thinks it's from the smoke, but she grabs his arm and fixes him with a pleading gaze.  
  
"My daughter's still inside, she says in a voice that rasps and grates, and Tony swears again.  
  
Thor squares his shoulders, preparing to make his way into the flames, when he spots a shape moving in the smoke. He focuses and it resolves into a large black dog, trotting out of the flames while pulling a young girl.  
  
The mother cries out and lowers herself out of Tony's arms, then stumbles to embrace her daughter, dropping to her knees with tears running down her soot-stained cheeks.  
  
"Is anyone else still inside?" he asks the Man of Iron, keeping his eyes on the patterns wove by the dancing flames.  
  
"Nope, all clear," he says. The eyes of his armor are impressive indeed, with their ability to discern such a thing through the burning walls.  
  
"That is most fortunate."  
  
The large black dog pads up to stand beside Thor, head cocked as though it is also watching the flames consume the building. Thor drops one hand down to rest on its head, scratching idly behind it's ears. After an initial flinch the dog allows it.  
  
"So where did tall, dark, and crazy get to?" the Man of Iron asks, swiveling in place (Thor suspects that such heavy armor makes for an inflexible neck) as though in so doing his brother would appear in the remains of the battlefield.  
  
The dog stiffens beneath his fingers. He keeps a hand resting at the base of its neck.  
  
"I do not know, Tony Stark. My brother's actions and whereabouts are ever a mystery to me."  
  
The dog twists to look at him quizzically, but he doesn't meet its green eyes. Tony gives him a hard look he could feel even through the man's armor, and he shrugs.  
  
"All right then," he says at last, "we're meeting back at base to debrief." He turns and in a flash of light and ozone is nothing more than a streak across the sky.  
  
Thor grins and kneels down, taking the dog's head in both hands. "Who's a good boy," he says, in the same voice the Captain of America uses when greeting canine friends, ruffling the fur along its head and neck.  
  
His brother gives an indignant yelp and twists away, glaring at him balefully for a few seconds before disappearing in trails of green smoke.  
  
Thor chuckles to himself and starts walking in the direction Iron Man had flown, and is still smiling when he rejoins his friends.

 


End file.
